


Sandwich Drabbles

by OtakuAngelD



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtakuAngelD/pseuds/OtakuAngelD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of drabbles about different character and sandwiches. Written for the Avengers Kink meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wrong Thing to Say - Clint and Natasha

**Author's Note:**

> An entry to the Avengers Kink meme. The prompt:
> 
> Any eat a sandwich that is the prompt. Any must eat a sandwich, is it an everyday piece, a drama, angst (Why can't Any eat his sandwich? Why!?!!), romance (Any's beloved made the sandwich with such love!)
> 
> Are you up the challenge?

Clint looked up from his XBox controller to see Natasha walk into the room.

"Hey babe, go make me a sammich."

\---

Three weeks late the broken ribs had mended, the concussion gone and he had most of the feeling back in his left arm. He had also learned to make one hell of a cheese sandwich.


	2. I need a Hero - Loki/Thor

"What are you eating, Brother?" The incredulous question was shot from the other side of the cell. From Loki, coiled on the floor, lounging lazily, listless. But he knows he's not. Thor knows his brother better than that.

"It is a food item from the Midgard realm. It is astounding how many varieties are packed together between two pieces of bread."

"Un-hun." Is the non-committal reply, spurring Thor to speak more upon in the favor of this mortal delight.

"The Man of Iron calls it a 'Hero'. Is this not a suitable for one such as I to partake in, with such a grand and noble title."

"Riiiight." Loki might have rolled his eyes. It was hard to hell with that hooded gaze.

"Would you like to try it as well, Brother?"

Loki looked at the quickly disappearing meal. He considered his options. He highly doubted Thor would poison him. It did look a great deal better than the food he was given in the prison. "I suppose one bite won't hurt."

He learned forward to sink his teeth into the sandwich. He chewed under the expectant, excited gaze of Thor.

"Is it to your liking, Brother?” 

Loki smirked slowly and leaned to take another, larger bite. "Oh, I feel more heroic already."


	3. the science of sandwiches - Bruce/Tony

68 hours. It had been 68 long grueling hours, but they were close. So close they could taste it. Sleep was a distant memory, unimportant. Not when they were this close to unraveling the vast secrets of the universe. With this, they would surely set science and society forward 100 years. If not more. The answer was at hand. The mysteries of life itself were about to be revealed; and all it had taken was two geniuses, 4 pots of coffee, and nearly three days. 

"JARVIS, run the simulation..."

His hand slid over to grasp Bruce's. Bruce turned his over to hold back. Clutched in anticipation. Breaths held. This was it. This was for everything. This would be the most important discovery to ever grace mankind.

"It landed butter side down again, sir."

Then a sigh. Damnit. 

Hands left each other's grasps and they once more turned to their computers to plug in equations.


	4. A Perfect Sandwich

It had to absolutely perfect. There was no other option than that. It wasn't every day a man got to make a sandwich for his childhood hero. Captain America was the one who had made him want to join SHIELD in the first place. He was a living legend. He only deserved the very very best and that was what Phil was going to see that he got.

He took it on like he took on most of his missions. Precise, with a game plan that was foolproof. He dubbed it 'Mission Make a Sandwich for Steve'. Okay, not the best mission title, but it was apt.

Finding the deli on 4th street that had been open since 1918 hadn't been too hard. Deciding what sort of meat to get from there had been. Was Steve a beef person? Pastrami? Cold cuts? He had to return to base to gather intel before returning to make his selection. It had gone the same with cheese.

The vegetables had been slightly more difficult. Heirloom tomatoes grown from the White House Victory Garden had taken some strings and some red tape and a few favors. Organic lettuce and real kosher dills from an amazing Jewish deli joined. As did mustard imported all the way from Germany. Fury would be pissed that he had used vital manpower to transport the jar safely.

He didn't get bread until the day of the mission. Fresh baked, from an artesian bread shop. 

T-minus sandwich time, he spent hours cutting tomatoes into perfect 1/2 inch slices. Each pickle had to be placed for optimum crunch. The meat layered and folded just so. Cheese on top. Then a liberal spreading of mustard. Then cut it into two perfect triangles with the help of a protractor he had borrowed from Tony. Then on a plate. Perfect. Just...perfect.

Carrying his masterwork into the lounge, he saw his hero sitting in front of the television watching baseball. Smiling, Coulson approached and said, "Hey, thought you might be hungry, so I made you a little something." Like he hadn't been planning this for months.

"Thanks." Steve accepted the offering and patted the couch beside him. "70 years and the Dodgers still are terrible." He took a bit out of the treat and made a surprise but happy sound. "But the sandwiches sure have gotten a lot better."

Coulson could only bask and start planning his next mission. "Mission take Steve to a real ball game."


	5. Impossible

He just wanted to eat a damn sandwich. Was that so hard to understand? Why couldn't the world hold off for five damn minutes so a man could eat in peace? He hadn't signed up for this crap! There had been no tiny print at the bottom that said that he had to drop everything every single time something happened. 

Yet it seemed every single time he had a moment to himself to do the little things like sleep or eat, the warning alarms would go off and the Avengers had to assemble and his lunch would sit untouched.

Just once...Just once. His stomach growled. The Avengers had better take care of this soon, else he was going to show them all that Nick Fury wasn't in the mood for playing around. He had a damn sandwich to eat!


	6. Girl's Night In

It wasn't often that Pepper could get time off to just sit and chat with anyone. Running the company, babysitting Tony Stark, generally just being Pepper Pots was enough to keep five girls busy. Still she took time out to enjoy a social life. Besides, with all the testosterone flying about, it was nice to sit down and have a little girl talk.

"So," Jane continued, munching on little tea sandwiches, picking off the cucumber. "And then I told him that the portal was unstable. But did he believe me. No."

The red head leaned a little closer. "What did you do?" Her own little finger food was forgotten in her hand for the latest gossip, even if it was science stuff.

"I turned it on and blew up the entire lab."

"You didn't!"

"I did. You should have seen the mess."

They dissolved into girlish giggles, munching on the snacks. She needed to invite Natasha to the next girls night in.


	7. In Soviet Russia, Sandwich eats you - The Winter Soldier(Bucky)

It was said when soldiers come home from war, they went to McDonalds and wanted burgers. He however had never really left the war. Plus the McDonald's in Moscow still sucked a lot.

He remembered a time when there hadn't been one at all. Back in the day, when the hammer and sickle flew. Besides, Department X didn't have any use for such things. And why would he even remember burgers.

But he did. Deep down, in memories that unaffected by his amnesia, he remembered the wonderful taste of two all beef patties, tomato, pickle, lettuce, onion and special sauce, all on a poppy seed bun. And he vowed that once they got to America, he was going to have a burger, just because he could.


	8. Bonus Chapter - Charles and Erik

The television sat silent. The room was silent. It could have been considered empty except for the brooding figure sitting in a chair next to the fire. His head hung low, sleeve rolled up, eyes tracing those familiar numbers over his flesh. Numbers that would never fade, just as the memories of those days would never leave.

Everyone else should be in bed. There was a lot to do in the coming days. He could be alone with his thoughts. Thinking about the past. About his family. About how warm and happy he had felt. They might not have had much, but they had made up for it in heart. Eating meals and enjoying each other's company. 

That was before the dark days.

He closed his eyes a moment, to try to keep the brighter memories in his mind. The point between rage and serenity. 

They opened when the door opened and closed. He watched the young Brittish man approach, a small dish in hand. Quietly, he smiled and places it before him.

"Charles, you're not supposed to do that." He pointed to his own head.

"I know, Eric. But when I started dreaming about Pastrami I suppose I had very little choice in the matter." 

He smiled slightly and rolled down his sleeve before taking the small gift. "Since you're awake, mind a game of chess, Charles?"

"With you, I never mind. I'll set up the board."


End file.
